Revenge
by Dividual
Summary: It never tasted so sweet. -Riku POV-


8D Oh Ra. I'm a bad person. I make a lot of fics through his POV because it's so easy to take emotions to extremes. And we all know emotional extremes are my kind of thing.

**Dithclaimer: Well, we can clearly thee Thqueenix characterth don't talk like thith. If they did, you would be entitled to blame it all on me.**

She makes me want to hurt people. Hurt her, hurt him, myself, everyone. It's me, I know, but sometimes I can't help but think there's more to it. I can't always be the one at fault, can I? No, this... This is her.

The moments it happens, I wish the worst for her. I wish for her tears, for her in pain, legs gone. Arms gone. Insides torched. Anything, everything that'll make her see. He's _mine,_ not hers. _Mine, _not even ours. I'm all for sharing, but not in this case. I want to see what her insides look like. I bet she's not so pretty on the inside.

Other than those times, we're the best of friends. Talking, laughing, smiling, all the joyous wonders that having a friend has to offer. But then, we'll both see him. Walking towards us, most of the time, sometimes not. He'll make eye contact with me as she rushes to throw herself all over him like she's worth something to him.

It makes me sick. I despise her.

But I carry on, throwing in a smile and a hello as she continues to cling like the whorish bitch she is. He gets uncomfortable, I can tell. You think she could too, but no. There she'll stay until he pries himself from her death grip and leaves.

We have a secret. A secret she's never supposed to know, never supposed to find out. I think she knows, though. That we're more than just friends. When we're alone we do things I know she would find unspeakable. Things that would make _her_ sick.

Good. She deserves it.

But I know that's why she does it. She fawns over him and touches him and drools all over him because she does know, and she's threatening me. Threatening _me,_ over someone that doesn't even belong to her, someone who doesn't even care for her.

He cares for me. I see it in the brief glances before he's unwillingly smothered, forced to return the gesture so he doesn't seem rude, so she doesn't catch on.

She does it and my insides boil- it's like a slap to the face. I can feel her contempt, and all I see is red. It takes every ounce of strength and every fiber of will power I have to not pull her away and scream at her.

_What's wrong with you. Can't you see he doesn't like you? Leave him alone, wretched scum. don't want you near him, ever._

There's a difference in the way he communicates with us. With me, it's loving. He does it because he he wants to, out of care. With her, it's out of pain and force, he does it but looks to me to replace her.

She's just jealous. Because she knows, we're one and the same, she burns when she sees us together. She can't stand it, just like I can't stand her. She sizzles with rage, witht the thought that I've stolen him from her. She never really had him in the first place, and even so, he came willingly.

She hates me, and I love it. The feeling is mutual. Now all I need to do is find a way to keep her away from him forever. Maybe I could hurt her, and tell her the truth. I do wish to see her tears, watch as her heart breaks and shatters into her stomach by my hand. I want to be the one she openly loathes, I want to feel her fury and envy, envy over the fact that he doesn't love her like he loves me.

When I'm with him, a completely opposite card is played. I tell him he's a marvelous actor, how he can just flip it on and off at a moment's notice. I tell him that it's a thrill to watch him go back and forth, all for the sake of a lie.He laughas and asks if that means what he thinks it does. It does, and I tell him. He laughs again, and a different kind of game ensues. No doubt he's thinking the same thing I am; _what if she saw us now?_

I relish the mere idea. Seeing her reaction would be priceless; I think, one day, when I can't take her shit anymore, I'll sit her down and make her watch. She might just kill herself. Not that it bothers me at all.

She'll rue the day whe she decided tramping all over my life was a good idea. As for me, I can't wait. It's coming soon, I can feel it. A guy can only bear so much pressure, and eventually it'll explode.

It's a pity I'm the violent type. I _will_ have my my revenge, and she _will_ see that she overstep her bounds, by a long shot.

And that's perfectly not alright. I'll just have to wait for the right time to strike.

I have patience.

Do it. Plz.


End file.
